


A Lesson In Bartering

by Thanatopsiturvy



Series: The 36 Lessons of Teldryn Sero: Nerevarine [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Equally Enthusiastic Handjobs, Fargoth Did Nothing Wrong, Fluff and Smut, Justice For Fargoth, M/M, Nerevarine!Teldryn, Sharing a Bed, The Fic That Nobody Asked For, Well One Person Asked For, enthusiastic blowjobs, weirdly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/pseuds/Thanatopsiturvy
Summary: ---Homeless, directionless, and desperate to make some coin, Teldryn Sero spends his first day in Seyda Neen stalking the annoying little Bosmer that first greeted him as he stepped foot out of the census office.In the end, this relieves at leastoneof his worries.---
Relationships: Fargoth/Nerevarine
Series: The 36 Lessons of Teldryn Sero: Nerevarine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741183
Comments: 15
Kudos: 53





	A Lesson In Bartering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kestrelshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrelshade/gifts).



> Yes, this is Fargoth smut. No, I never expected to write this.
> 
> \----
> 
> YES, Teldryn Sero is my Nerevarine. NO, I won't apologize. 
> 
> \----
> 
> [Kestrelshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrelshade/pseuds/Kestrelshade) made me do it --- Thank you [banjotea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/banjotea/pseuds/banjotea) for being a fantastic beta!

* * *

  
  
Seyda Neen’s smell was exactly to be expected — a pungent, marshy muck that pressed into your nose the same way the swamp water pressed into the seams of Teldryn’s shoes. He’d assumed his first day back in his home country as a free mer would consist of more than clerical work and a prolonged feeling of stickiness. This wasn’t the case. He was kicked out the door of the census office with no money, no connections, and a set of (vague, mildly threatening, and definitely cryptic) orders to march his arse to Balmora lest the Imperials dogs start sniffing around in his business again. His attempt to scrounge up some coin for the strider was what had landed him in his current situation: lying on his stomach at the top of the Seyda Neen lighthouse as dusk settled over the swamps. 

He swatted at a noseeum that buzzed around his ear, gnawing on a strip of scrib jerky as his eyes scanned the village below. Mephala knew why he and the annoying little wood elf had crossed paths more than once in a day. He should have kept the stupid ring — it was a lucky find, and Teldryn needed all the luck he could get. And yet… 

Movement along the stone wall to the right of the lighthouse caught his eye. He paused mid-chew. Fargoth crept into view, dousing his torch in the mud and dropping into a crouch. In an absurd caricature of stealth, he made his way towards the coast, still plainly visible to any onlooker. 

Teldryn finished his bite of jerky and mumbled, “Where are you going, you little fetcher?” 

He watched as the wood elf scampered bow-legged over to the patch of swamp behind the Tradehouse, wading into the water and slogging towards a large stump in the center. Teldryn dragged a hand across his eyes with a groan. That couldn’t possibly be it. Fargoth’s ‘secret stash’ was a rotted old tree trunk in the middle of a patch of swamp? Teldryn lightly thumped his forehead against the wooden platform a few times, then sat up on the edge, still watching Fargoth trudge dutifully towards the stump. The elf stumbled over a small root into the swampy pit and dragged himself up against the stump. He barely managed to drop something into the hollow of the trunk when his foot slipped against the wet wood and he went sliding down into the pool, sunk up to his neck in muck. He sputtered loud enough for Teldryn to hear from his perch, splashing around in the water and making a shocking amount of noise. Amazingly, Teldryn seemed to be the only one who noticed. He watched him thrash for a moment longer before sighing and pushing himself forward off the landing, dropping silently onto the rocks below. As he approached, Fargoth looked up at him with a mix of panic and relief..

“Friend! Hello! How fortuitous! My--” He let out a strangled sort of squeak. “My foot is stuck! Please--” He cut himself off as Teldryn waded into the pool, moving past him towards the stump, and reaching in to grab the items he’d just dropped in. Fargoth’s face went ashen. 

“Please don’t.” 

“I know someone who wants this,” Teldryn said, hefting the pouch of gold in his hand. He was a full head taller than the woof elf, even more so with him half sunken into the pool. 

“Please…” Fargoth seemed to be at a loss, his dark eyes imploring. With a sigh, Teldryn tied the pouch to his belt and waded to stand in front of the elf. 

“Hold still.” He reached an arm down into the water, feeling around. He grimaced when he had to sink even further into the mirk, grasping blindly at the slick roots until he found the one that seemed to have ensnared Fargoth’s foot. His right ear was practically submerged as he worked, squeezing and pulling at Fargoth’s heel until the mer’s foot finally popped loose. Fargoth tumbled forward, falling face first into the water, and Teldryn grabbed him by the back of his tunic and hoisted him onto his feet. He sputtered and coughed, wiping at his eyes. 

“Come on.” Teldryn nudged him forward. They both trudged out of the pool, drenched to the bone. 

Fargoth only got a few feet away before he whirled, furious. “Give me my things!” 

“Not here.” Teldryn shook out his leg, his pants clinging to his skin uncomfortably. “You don’t happen to have a clean pair of clothes in my size, do you?” He grinned at his own joke despite Fargoth’s scowl. 

“Give. Me. My. _Things,”_ he repeated through clenched teeth, holding out his hand indignantly.

“Seeing as how I was planning on taking them to begin with, I don’t think I will.” 

“I’ll call the guards on you!” 

“The _guards_ put me up to this.” 

Fargoth went pale again, dropping his hand and his gaze. He’d begun to shiver and something ugly and unwanted churned in Teldryn’s gut: pity. He sighed loudly, running a hand over his crest of hair, grimacing when he realized he’d just slicked it down with pond scum. “Listen, give me a place to stay for the night and a chance to dry off and we’ll call it even.” It was a shit bargain and there was nothing _even_ about it, but Teldryn bit his tongue. 

Fargoth’s scowl was back and Teldryn very nearly expected him to stomp his foot like a petulant child. “Fine. Come with me.”

\--

Fargoth’s house was across the bridge to the north of town. It was a nondescript stone building with a small tendril of smoke curling from a lone chimney. Teldryn couldn’t help but notice that the door swung open a bit too easily as the little elf pushed inside with sagging shoulders.

“Your lock’s broken,” he said, knowing full well he was being unhelpful and smug. 

“I know,” Fargoth spat. “I haven’t gotten a chance to replace it since yesterday, when the guards broke into my house to rummage through my things. _Again._ ”

The house was a small, one-room affair with a bed, a table with a single chair, a lone shelf, and a crackling fire in the hearth. Teldryn kicked off his soggy shoes by the door, wriggling his toes to try to conjure warmth back into them. “What on Nirn put you in such a bad way with the guards?” 

Fargoth gave him an incredulous look, then gestured to himself by way of an answer. 

Teldryn frowned. “Surely that can’t _just_ be it.”

“It is!” Fargoth pulled his sodden shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the ground with a wet splat. “Well… I do have some outstanding taxes.”

Teldryn quirked a brow.  
“But that’s not their motivation, _or their job_ , for that matter! Why would they _constantly_ shake me down with no reasoning or proof? Why steal things from my house and plant them around town if they were just after my tax money? You saw it yourself! You found my ring for me!” He was getting shriller with every sentence and Teldryn made a calming motion. 

“All right, all right. I believe you.” He unhooked the small coin purse from his belt and tossed it over. 

Fargoth fumbled, but caught it, giving Teldryn a distrustful look. 

“I didn’t take any, if that’s what that sour expression is about.”

“And why should I trust you?” 

Teldryn flashed a grin. “You shouldn’t.” He walked over to the fire, pulling his own shirt over his head, holding it up to the light to inspect it. “No way this will be dry by morning,” he muttered. He turned to ask Fargoth about spare clothes again only to see the wood elf jerk his gaze away, ears tinted red. Teldryn smirked. “Like what you see?” 

Fargoth scowled. “All I see is a criminal.” 

“ _Ex-_ criminal, and I’m hurt.” Teldryn put a hand over his heart. “I’m being quite nice. Come stand by the fire. I can see you shivering, you know.” 

Fargoth stomped over, eyes down, and crouched by the hearth, as far from Teldryn as possible, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Teldryn sighed, sitting down and running his hands through his hair, attempting to shake loose some of the muck.

After a few moments, Fargoth spoke. “So... you were in an Imperial prison?” 

“Not a great topic for light conversation.” 

Fargoth huffed, curling his arms around his legs and resting his chin atop his knees as he gazed into the fire. “Well, why were you going to take my gold?” 

“I need to get to Balmora.” 

“Why?” 

“Because the Imperial dogs still have me on a short leash.” 

Fargoth huffed again, but his lips twitched with an amused curl. “Are you always this cryptic?” 

“Only with strange wood elves who fall into swamps.”

This managed to produce a laugh — a snorting squeak of a laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. Fargoth uncurled and shifted to sit cross-legged in front of the fire, holding his hands out to warm them. “Well, thank you for your change of heart, and _not_ robbing me blind.” He cocked his head to the side. “You said your name is Teldryn, right?” 

“I did.” Teldryn stretched his arms up over his head, bending to one side, then the other. “And despite it all, I’m very happy to be home. Even if I don’t have an actual home to come back to.” 

Fargoth raked his eyes across Teldryn’s torso before he jerked his gaze away again, scratching at the back of his neck with a gathering flush across his cheeks.

“If you want to bed me, you can just say so.” 

“What!?” The response was far too loud and panicked to be anything other than genuine. 

Teldryn smirked. “You’re not my first choice, but I _did_ just get out of prison.” He allowed himself to leer for a moment. “It’s a good way to warm up, too.” 

“I don’t… I’m not…” Fargoth sputtered, jaw flapping wordlessly. “You’re too young for me!” he finally settled on, which was a piss-poor excuse. 

“Oh?” Teldryn pushed onto all fours, crawling towards him. “Is that your reasoning?” 

Fargoth inched backwards. “And you’re a degenerate!” 

“That’s a perk for some people.” 

“You tried to steal from me!”

“I gave it back.”

Fargoth stopped crawling away and Teldryn stopped crawling towards him. They locked eyes for a long moment. Fargoth’s ebony-black eyes reflected the low light of the flickering fire. Without warning, he lunged forward, scrambling into Teldryn’s lap and painfully smashing their mouths together. Teldryn let out a muffled grunt, sitting back on his heels and resting his hands against Fargoth’s wiry sides as the Bosmer straddled his hips, grinding against him with startling fervor. Both their pants were still soaked through, the perfect excuse to get rid of them.

Fargoth smelled like the swamp, and Teldryn could only assume that he did as well. It wasn’t a terribly unpleasant smell — earthy and sharp — and Teldryn opened his mouth enough to let Fargoth’s insistent little tongue slide between his lips. He groaned involuntarily. By the Three, it felt good to be kissed again, even if it was a bit ferocious; to be touched and held and _wanted_. It had been far too long... Fargoth fisted his hair, then pulled away to scrape his teeth along Teldryn’s jawline, huffing with exertion. He was already rock hard, leading Teldryn to believe it might have been a while for the little Bosmer as well. 

“Bed?” Teldryn managed, his voice already ragged. 

Fargoth jerked away in response, blinking rapidly, as if breaking out of trance. “Bed…” he repeated. 

“I’d like to get out of these trousers.” 

Fargoth shuffled backwards, stumbling to his feet. Teldryn pushed to stand with a chuckle, unhooking his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor. His cock was half-hard, but it wouldn’t need a whole lot of convincing to reach its full potential. Fargoth licked his lips and clutched at the loosened hem of his pants, eyes darting between Teldryn’s groin and his face. 

“I’m not very… big,” he squeezed out.

“I don’t see how that’s an issue.” Teldryn strolled over to the small bed and rolled onto it with a groan. The covers were a bit scratchy, but otherwise it was the most comfortable thing he’d felt in a long time. 

Fargoth swallowed audibly and let his pants drop, skittering over to crawl onto the mattress. Teldryn slid an arm around his thin waist, pulling him up for a kiss. Teldryn liked kissing. He was being reminded _just_ how much he liked it with each passing moment. Fargoth was still shaking. 

“Would you like to get under the covers?” 

“No.” He slid down Teldryn’s chest, leaving a wet trail of bites and kisses. “You’re so fit,” he commented, brushing a hand over Teldryn’s abs. Teldryn flexed, because he could. Fargoth gave him an unamused look that he returned with a grin. 

“Whatever you want,” Teldryn offered, tucking his hands beneath his head. “I make no demands.” 

“Oh…” Fargoth looked a little lost for a moment, but straightened up. “Would you… use your mouth? On me?” 

Teldryn tilted his head with a quirked brow. “Sure, but come up here.” He guided Fargoth up until he was straddling Teldryn’s face, clutching the headboard for balance. His cock was no wider than Teldryn’s middle finger, and only slightly shorter. It was a nice shape and, to be honest, probably a good start to ease himself back into the world of cocksucking. He palmed Fargoth’s ass, bringing his hips forward, tonguing along the bottom of his shaft and back up before sucking lightly on the head. Fargoth let out a yelp that made Teldryn wince and pull away.  
“All right up there?” 

“Oh, Divines, _please_ don’t stop…” Fargoth jerked his hips forward, cockhead bumping against Teldryn’s nose and he laughed, opening his mouth and swallowing him to the hilt. 

It only took a little bit of encouragement to get Fargoth to start moving on his own, and soon Teldryn was lying back against the pillows letting the Bosmer fuck his mouth at an alarming speed. He was a loud little fetcher, crying out in short, breathy bursts with each thrust, completely lost in his own pleasure. Teldryn didn’t mind — sometimes it turned him on to be used. He breathed steadily through his nose as the Bosmer went to town, relishing the slick, filthy squelches of his own mouth, saliva beginning to drip from its corners. He felt Fargoth’s movements begin to stutter, felt him start to pull away, so Teldryn grabbed two fistfuls of ass and sucked, holding him in place. 

“OH!” he cried out. “No, I’m about to–!”

Teldryn bobbed his head and sucked harder, and whatever Fargoth had been planning to say dissolved into high-pitched whine, his hips jerking forward as he came. Teldryn mildly regretted his impulsive decision to finish him with his mouth — the acrid, bitter taste and cloying smell of Fargoth’s cum clung to the back of his throat and curled up into his sinuses — but he swallowed the seed dutifully. 

With quivering thighs, Fargoth inched his way down the bed, collapsing against Teldryn’s chest, breathing heavily. His hair was still damp, curling wildly around his temples as he panted, sweat glistening across his forehead. Teldryn took his own cock in hand, stroking it lazily as he nuzzled the top of Fargoth’s head with a smirk. 

“Lemme…” Fargoth waved his hand lethargically in the direction of Teldryn’s groin. 

“No rush,” Teldryn assured, and he meant it. Fargoth pushed up to kiss him again, sliding his tongue between Teldryn’s lips and groaning into his mouth. His mouth felt softer somehow, more pliant, relaxed. Teldryn ran his fingers through his stringy, straw-blond hair, giving his own dick a few more languid tugs.

Without saying a word, Fargoth slid away, shimmying down the bed to settle between Teldryn’s knees. He shooed Teldryn’s hand away, replacing it with both of his, then paused, brow creasing in thought. 

“Hold on just a moment.” With more energy than Teldryn was expecting, Fargoth sprung off the bed and trotted over to a thin trunk. He kicked it open, and pulled out a small clay container. Smiling sheepishly, he removed the lid and scooped out three fingers worth of… _something._

“Are you going to explain, or simply leave me to guess?” 

Fargoth set the jar back down. “It’s basically cooking oil.” 

_“Basically?”_

“Well, what I mean is I don’t,” he laughed nervously, “I don’t usually use it for cooking.” 

_Ah._ Teldryn laughed, beckoning him back over to the bed with a curl of his fingers.

This time, when Fargoth wrapped his hands around Teldryn’s cock, they were slick and warm. He groaned, tipping his head back against the pillow. _Fuck,_ it felt good to have something other than his own hand around him, and Fargoth’s grip was tight, his fingers nimble. He worked Teldryn’s cock like a potter at his wheel, pulling him close to the edge, only to drag him back — oscillating between tight fists and gentle, featherlight touches. Teldryn was panting and fisting the sheets, thighs tense and knees locked. He tried to thrust up into Fargoth’s hands only to have him pull away or loosen his grip. 

“You little s’wit,” he growled through a smile. 

Fargoth shrugged, wringing his hands around Teldryn’s cock and making him hiss before pulling away again. “I had to get you back somehow.” 

Teldryn groaned. “Lesson learned. But come on…” 

“All you have to do is ask nicely.” Fargoth’s smile was sharp. 

Teldryn chuckled darkly. “Oh, you fucker.” He let out a sharp exhale, squeezing his eyes closed as Fargoth tightened his hands for a few fast strokes, before easing off again. 

“One word is enough.”

“Please.” Teldryn wasn’t above begging. Not when his balls were pulled tight and electricity tingled along every nerve. “Please, let me–” His words devolved into a long, low moan as Fargoth stroked him hard and fast, and he snapped his hips up into his clasped hands, a wretched pleasure swelling in the pit of his stomach, hard and sour like unripe fruit. He came with shout and a growl through clenched teeth, fucking into those tight little hands as pleasure rolled across his body like a rainstorm — soaking him to his core. 

  
Fargoth continued to stroke until Teldryn’s thighs shook and his body convulsed, overstimulated and wrung dry. He sat up, firmly grabbing onto Fargoth’s wrists to get him to stop. The little shocked look on his face stoked the cooling embers in Teldryn’s belly and he kissed him fiercely, burying one hand in Fargoth’s hair while snaking the other around his waist, lying back and pulling him against his chest. 

Fargoth made a muffled noise against his mouth, jerking away. “You just dragged me through your cum!” 

Teldryn kissed him again, a little slower. “Sorry.” He tucked a wild hank of hair behind Fargoth’s ear with a lopsided smile. A good orgasm always left him feeling a bit softer, and usually rather fond of whoever it was that aided its arrival. 

Fargoth’s eyes fluttered, his lips parting slightly. “Well... “ He swallowed. “We should clean up.” 

“I suppose we should.” Teldryn kissed him again instead, enjoying how warm and velvety their mouths felt pressed together. 

Eventually, they dragged themselves from the bed, coated in sweat and spend, and snuck out into the night stark naked, only to jump into the waterway just behind Fargoth’s house, laughing and cursing. The night was calm, humming with the trill of the coastal insects, punctuated every so often by the long, warbling cry of the silt strider. The waters of the Inner Sea grew warmer as Teldryn acclimated, and he pulled Fargoth beneath the bridge, muffling his giggles with a kiss as a guard passed overhead, torchlight seeping through the cracks of the wooden planks. 

It felt good to be free. 

Finally, they pulled themselves from the water, waiting until the guard turned away to run back to Fargoth’s house. After drying off, Teldryn let Fargoth lead him back to bed, crawling beneath the covers this time. He was a snuggly little thing, and now that they both smelled mildly fresher, Teldryn couldn’t say he minded one bit. 

“This has been a strange day,” Fargoth mused, breath warm across Teldryn’s collarbone as he traced nonsensical patterns through the hairs on his chest. 

“Very.”

“And you’re just… leaving? Tomorrow?” 

“If I can. I’ll walk to Balmora if I have to.” Teldryn sighed, pulling Fargoth a little closer. “I don’t necessarily _want_ to, but…” He lapsed into silence. He was free, yes. But at what cost?

“Well...” Fargoth stretched, the warm line of his body arching against Teldryn’s side. “Just don’t run off without saying goodbye.” 

Teldryn smiled, letting out an amused huff. “Of course not.”

Come morning, Teldryn hung around long enough to fuck Fargoth one more time, enjoy a light breakfast, graciously accept the offer of fifty drakes, and fix his broken lock.

Overall, his return to Morrowind was off to an interesting start. 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, honorable mention for a title that banjotea came up with: 
> 
> _"The Wee Peen of Seyda Neen"_
> 
> He deserves to be murdered for that. 
> 
> _Honorably..._ uwu


End file.
